


sweet caroline

by loveinheaven



Category: Frühlings Erwachen | Spring Awakening - Frank Wedekind, Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: Bisexual Female Character, Bisexual Male Character, Boys In Love, Concerts, Cute, Cute Ending, Dorks in Love, Drug Use, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, Fireworks, First Love, Fourth of July, Friendship/Love, Gay Male Character, Girls Kissing, Idiots in Love, Kissing, Lesbian Character, Love Confessions, Short & Sweet, Songfic, Useless Lesbians
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-18 21:59:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16127585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveinheaven/pseuds/loveinheaven
Summary: the story of how melchior helped wendla and moritz discover the most iconic american song ever, ilse almost got arrested, and wendla kissed ilse under the light of the fireworks for the first time, and possibly the second.





	sweet caroline

**Author's Note:**

> tw// ilse gets high. stay safe:)

It was the weekend before the 4th of July.

There was music blaring through the nearby speakers, and for once, it was Melchior Gabor who didn’t give a shit.

Normally, Wendla and Moritz weren’t partial to live concerts or bands in general, seeing as they couldn’t appreciate the music in full. But here, when the lights and the pounding of the bass was so easy to become immersed in, the two of them were having the time of their lives.

Melchior, on the other hand, was scrolling through Twitter halfheartedly, complaining to Ilse about the band that was chosen to play at this year’s fireworks show.    
  
“I mean,” he began to sign after setting his phone down and leaning back against their cooler full of snacks, “the organizers used to get such good bands. And then we show up this year and they get a shitty cover band? Come on, I’m pretty sure this is like the twelfth time they’ve played Uptown Funk.”

Ilse shook her head, looking behind her to see Wendla and Moritz dancing to the beat of the music, waving their hands in the air. “Look at them,” she said, lazily gesturing toward her friends. She was a little high, she could admit that, but she was still emotionally present and mostly aware of the situation. Just a bit less anxious.

“Those two are having a wonderful time, Melchi.” Ilse signed after a moment, unable to stop from laughing at them once more. Not once before had Ilse seen Wendla and Moritz so close, but here they were: the two of them were now holding hands and dancing, standing at the edge of their blanket. And Ilse and Melchior laid on the blanket behind them, watching from a distance.

Wendla turned around, smiling so broadly that the gap between her teeth was visible and adorable. “Ilse! Join us?” She asked, reaching out a hand for her friend. “I want you to dance with us, it’s so fun!”   
  
Moritz didn’t say anything, but he nodded in agreement, looking over at Wendla almost wistfully. The look in his eyes was that of a friendship so strong, it had grown to a platonic love.

And then the music stopped- at least, it did to Moritz and Wendla. The bass had come to a silence and so their world was dropped into stillness once again. The two of them looked at each other sadly, Wendla’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.    
  
“Where’d the music go? Why’d it stop?” Wendla signed to Melchior and Ilse, looking around as she did, attempting to find the source of the pounding bass that had just disappeared. 

“It didn’t stop,” Melchior signed in reply. “This song is just super boring. No bass, no drums, no loud electric guitar-”

“What song is it?” A curious Moritz asked, which prompted Ilse and Melchior to exchange an awkwardly knowing glance. They knew the song, and for a second, Ilse almost felt bad for Wendla and Moritz because she knew they would never get to hear such an iconic American song. This was the song that every single American had to know. 

And the awkwardly knowing glance continued as Ilse and Melchior, together, signed, “Sweet Caroline,” as they rolled their eyes, feigning disgust.

“What makes it so bad?” Wendla asked, taking Moritz’s hand as she did. “We’re going to head over to the speakers so we can feel it better.”   
  
Moritz and Wendla eagerly crossed the field and found the nearest set of speakers, both of them immediately running closer as soon as they were within eyesight. They placed their hands on the speaker and both began to laugh at the awkward tempo of the music, along with the way everyone in the crowd waved their hands around in the air like oddly-programmed robots. “Are you seeing this, or have I lost my mind?” Moritz asked, gesturing to the area around them. “Everyone’s waving their arms! They aren’t doing anything with them, only holding them in the air like lunatics!”   
  
With that, Wendla laughed again, but the laugh quickly evolved into a startled yelp when she felt someone grab her from behind. 

“Melchior, what the hell?! You scared me!” Wendla frantically signed, though she fell into his arms without hesitation as soon as she was finished going off at him. Melchior wrapped his arms tighter around her, kissing her forehead sweetly. He then pulled away, his eyebrows awkwardly raised. 

“How much do you hate this song?” Melchior asked, and both Wendla and Moritz chimed in with their objections and insistence that ‘Sweet Caroline’ was an excellent song.

Melchior scoffed; Ilse laughed and high-fived both of them.

And then Wendla and Moritz’s hands were back on the speaker, and Ilse, though the noise gave her a slight headache and she felt dizzy, decided to join them in placing one hand on the stereo, and though the three of them were careful as ever not to knock the device over, a police officer soon arrived at their little scene.

“Excuse me? I’m going to have to ask you to please step away from the speaker,” a tall, muscular police officer bellowed. He stood at a height that dwarfed even Melchior, and his voice was enough to make the usually-level-headed boy flinch. He should have seen this coming, it was almost frequent now. But Melchior was suddenly mute out of fear, and that left only Ilse to explain.

“Sir,” Ilse began, turning around slowly and pushing her curly hair out of her face lazily. “My friends can’t fucking hear anything. They just wanna, I don’t know, feel the music? You need to let them…”   
  
Melchior was standing off to the side, cringing deeply at Ilse’s response. Jesus Christ, of course she was high. And talking to a police officer without a drop of respect in her voice. Excellent. In a moment of what one might call leadership, Melchior walked over and translated the police officer’s words to Wendla and Moritz, and though Moritz nearly jumped back and signed a frantic apology, Wendla lingered for a moment before finally stepping away. She was evidently sad to leave such an interesting type of music behind.

“Pardon me,” Melchior said to the cop, signing as he did for the sake of Wendla and Moritz. “My friends wanted me to tell you that they are very sorry for touching the speaker. They didn’t know it was against the rules, and they won’t do it again.” The officer only mumbled a half-hearted thanks before turning his attention back to Ilse, who was not about to back down from a fight she knew she couldn’t win.

Melchior didn’t bother signing to Ilse- this officer seemed to interpret their language of gestures as a threat- rather, he elbowed her and through gritted teeth, spat, “Please, just drop it.”

Ilse turned sharply around and shoved Melchior away, and Wendla and Moritz, seeing as they had no idea what Melchior did to provoke her, jumped back startled. “What’s going on?” Wendla asked Moritz, eyes wide.

“I have no idea,” Moritz replied, his expression just as doelike.

Ilse had her mouth open now- she looked to be yelling at Melchior, and the officer had a firm grip on her arms and was holding her back. With a look of what could almost be described as resignation, the officer turned Ilse around and spoke, and as soon as Melchior realized it was important, he started interpreting it for Wendla and Moritz.

“Look, I can’t let you near the speakers, but if this lunatic calms down,” the officer said, gesturing to Ilse, “I suppose I could let you a bit closer to the stage.”

“Keep in mind,” the cop started again, making his words especially clear for Ilse, “there’s certainly heavier police surveillance up there, so don’t do anything dumb.”

Wendla clapped her hands together in sheer joy, thrilled at the chance to hear the rest of this strange song. As did Moritz, though his reaction was less animated.

The four of them, as escorted by the burly officer, walked up to the mosh pit, Wendla walking with such a spring in her step that it looked as though she might go flying into the evening sky, every star seeming especially vivid tonight. She looked up and thought she could pick out a constellation, one that didn’t look like much other than four stars in a smallish cluster.

Wendla and Moritz pushed their way through the crowd, followed by Melchior and Ilse, who both took it upon themselves to apologize for their friends’ antics and explain why being at the front was so important to them. The two Deaf kids eventually found a spot close enough that they could put their fingertips on the stage and feel the vibrations quite clearly through the damp grass. They smiled, the music almost hypnotic as they were hyper-focused on understanding why everyone claimed to love it so much.

And just as soon as they’d begun listening, the song was over, and both of them were confused, likely moreso than before. And Melchior had an eyebrow cocked at the looks on their faces, and Ilse was laughing quite a bit at the countless different emotions on Moritz and Wendla’s faces that couldn’t hardly be differentiated.

And then the big screens lit up with a multicolored announcement that the band’s performance was through and that a fireworks display would be starting in two minutes.

Melchior told Wendla and Moritz, and though he thought Ilse was aware, she was the one who acted the most excited about it. She was far gone now, her eyes almost dull, and Wendla was hanging on her. They held hands and Wendla rested her head on Ilse’s shoulder, running gentle fingers through the other girl’s hair.

“You’re sure you two aren’t dating yet?” Melchior signed to them, and Wendla turned bright red, while Ilse wasn’t concerned enough to blush. She only shrugged, glancing over at Wendla and feeling her heart melt.

They were startled and forced apart by a booming sound, which Wendla realized after a moment to be fireworks. Everyone had already found their seats, so the four teens began a dead sprint back to the spot they’d previously set up camp so that they could watch what was advertised as the biggest fireworks show in the USA.

Another booming sound filled the air, and Moritz went white in the face. Melchior grabbed Moritz’s hand and they picked up speed when they saw their blanket and cooler. 

Ilse pouted upon arriving at their campsite, realizing that Melchior and Moritz had beat her and Wendla and were already laying down on the blanket, breathing heavily. They were quite close to each other, as a matter of fact- closer than Ilse would have expected for the two of them.

She and Wendla laid down on the blanket, and Wendla watched the fireworks in awe, the brightly colored pictures illuminating her face with colors that danced across her freckled cheeks. She smiled, and the rainbow light even moved across her teeth.

Ilse was in love, she knew that much. The fireworks exploding in the sky sent thunderbolts through the grass, and the vibrations in the earth moved in harmony with her pounding heart. She couldn’t remember the last time her heart beat this way. She was just so, so in love.

Ilse turned to her side and signed one-handedly, “Can I kiss you?”

Wendla would have replied, but her heart picked up just the same as it usually did when her lips were this close to Ilse’s. Instead of a real reply, Wendla just closed the space between her and Ilse, moving her lips slowly against the other girl’s.

Ilse felt her heart pick up, and she couldn’t help but need to pull away to catch her breath. Wendla’s lower lip quivered, and she panicked in asking “Did I do something wrong?”   
  
“No, no… you’re doing everything right,” Ilse laughed, realizing how dumb they probably looked, and knowing full well that Moritz and Melchior were staring at them. “I love you, you know that?” Ilse asked, then she pressed the sign for “I love you” against Wendla’s chest gently. “I want you to be my girlfriend, will you?”   
  
Wendla’s heart picked up again, and she almost squealed before nodding and kissing Ilse even more deeply. She shifted her weight so that she laid lightly and carefully on Ilse as their lips stayed connected. She ran the hand that she wasn’t using to prop herself up through Ilse’s hair, and she felt Ilse’s lips curve into a smile as they kissed, impossibly gently.

Melchior and Moritz both sat up just enough to see Wendla and Ilse, so caught up in their own world that the only fireworks they felt were the ones exploding inside their minds, and hearts, and all over their bodies.

It was amusing- at least to the boys- watching two girls so hopelessly in love with each other.

After a moment of silence, the only sounds either of them could hear or feel being their synchronized heartbeats, they pulled away and Wendla held up the sign for “I love you,” which happened to be a gesture they’d somehow never shared before, at least, other than platonically. Wendla then laid her head on Ilse’s chest and watched the fireworks show come to a conclusion, feeling Ilse’s slow breathing, her head rising and falling with Ilse’s torso.

 

_ “Look at the night and it don't seem so lonely- _

_ We filled it up with only two. _

_ How can I hurt when I'm holding you?” _

 

Hopelessly in love seemed to be the only way to describe them.


End file.
